


The Heart Of The Issue

by amorremanet



Series: The Roxy 'verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Body Image, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Schmoop, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Weight Gain, chubby!kink, fat appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For all she sings its praises in public, Sam doesn’t like salad all that much. Gabrielle has other ideas.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart Of The Issue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weebleroxanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weebleroxanne/gifts).



> Written for the three-sentence fic meme on tumblr, where it… obviously got well over the three-sentence requirement. Anyway, ~weebleroxanne on tumblr (who is awesome and a badass) requested Samantha/Gabrielle, and… this was originally just supposed to be short and sweet, but it went and got other ideas.

For all she sings its praises in public, Sam doesn't like salad all that much. She hates the way the leaves crunch when she stabs at them with her fork; she hates the way they don't taste like anything without dressing or other vegetables; she hates the way that, thanks to the magazines Ruby passive-aggressively left laying around their dorm, she knows a decent approximation of how many calories are in all the dressings at the dining hall, so even if they make the salads taste better, Sam can't enjoy them.    
  
The problem is Halloween. The problem is that Halloween's coming up, and that Sam actually has a girlfriend this year, and that she was never naturally athletic like her older sister or skinny like Cas, Deanna's girlfriend (who deserves better than Deanna and doesn't seem to notice). The problem is the way Pamela's nicknamed Sam, "Bootylicious," and her…  _midsection_ , for lack of a better word. The little collection of  _pudge_  padding Sam's waistline and her hips — the collected results of putting on the Freshman Fifty-Five and only managing to shave off fifteen of them over the summer.    
  
Sam's already too tall to be wearing Jessica's sexy nurse costume, too tall to even  _think_  about that — a full six-four, she towers over everyone she knows and, in Dr. Bernstein's art history lectures, she gets to sit with her knees crowded up around her chest (oversized, in her opinion, and doomed to give her back problems eventually), because there's not enough space between Titsworth's chairs and the floor. In the words of her cousin, Ash, "That much leg should be against the law."    
  
(Sam wants to forget that Ash ever said this, and that he did so over  _fucking Thanksgiving dinner_ , in front of their  _fucking parents_ , when Jo and Deanna managed to talk Sam into wearing that scandalously tight miniskirt, but… so far, no dice.)    
  
The problem is: as tall as Jess is, Sam's taller. And as much as Jess has curves, Sam has more of them, and not necessarily in the right places, if anyone asks her about it. And she knows her girlfriend; she knows that Gabrielle likes sex and likes being able to brag about her girlfriends being sexy. She did it all the time with Bela last year, and in her, Deanna, and Cas's first year, she apparently did it with Alexandra Crowley, who's a senior now and looks like she was born to be a Bond Girl.    
  
The problem is: Sam's been working out, and (as far as she's told everyone) overly fastidious about getting her phys ed credits handled, but she still weighs two hundred and twenty-six pounds. Attempting to lose weight's gotten hindered, Cas says, because Sam's gained muscle, but Sam doubts that. And she just wants to make Gabrielle happy on Halloween. She doesn't want to be too big for a sexy costume. Hence, the diet.    
  
Of course, Gabrielle picks up on this, and has to go into full-on, PDA-happy girlfriend act at lunch, in the middle of the dining hall. She sidles up behind to Sam and whispers,  _hey, Sexy_ . She rubs her free hand down Sam's back, and then her arm, and skirts her fingers way too close to Sam's breasts for where they are. Sam purses her lips, but by some miracle, manages not to shout,  _GABI. WE'RE IN PUBLIC. BEHAVE YOURSELF ALREADY OR I WON'T EAT YOU OUT TOMORROW NIGHT._  Then, one-handed and far too gracefully, the bitch drops down a red plastic tray with a huge plate of lasagna, two Snickers bars, three of the brownies that the Queer Voice Coalition's selling in the lobby, a bouquet of orange Tootsie Pops (her favorite, and incidentally, Samantha's as well), and about the biggest ice cream sundae that Sam's ever seen anyone eat in one sitting.    
  
Sam can practically see her salad wilting next to Gabrielle's spread, but Sam impales a cherry tomato and chokes it down, steeling up as much of her resolve as possible. Even Deanna wouldn't try to get everything on Gabrielle's tray down, but with a perfectly even, angelic smile, Gabrielle digs right into the whole spread — the ice cream comes first, but not before she mixes up the flavors and the whipped cream into some giant mess of chocolate, strawberry, peanut butter cup, and mint chocolate chip. And whipped cream.    
  
It looks like vomit, from where Sam's sitting, but her girlfriend sucks down every enormous spoonful, moaning and gasping in Sam's ear, two steps away from reenacting  _When Harry Loves Sally_  for everyone else in Bates. She goes on for a good five minutes. And finally, Sam tosses her fork to the table and snaps, "Okay, I give up, just… what the Hell are you trying to prove?"    
  
Gabrielle shrugs, helping herself to another scoop of her ice cream puke mess — and before Sam can say anything else, Gabrielle jerks her into a kiss by her blue plaid flannel. A  _hard_  kiss — and one that's way too forward, not just because Gabrielle tongues at Sam's lips before they've even spent a minute locked together. She gets what she wants, too. Sam opens her mouth, lets Gabrielle grind her lips against Sam's and slip her tongue in past Sam's teeth, bringing with it some of the half-melted ice cream puke mess. It passes between their mouths with every twisting motion of their tongues, until finally, Sam swallows it, because it's sweet, and it tastes better than she guessed it would've, and it's sticky, and she wants it out of the way so she can taste her girlfriend instead.    
  
Except that said girlfriend smirks like she's wearing a halo held up by her devil horns. She lips at Sam for a moment and pulls back, returns to prodding her dessert with a spoon like nothing happened.    
  
"I'm not trying to prove  _anything_ ," Gabrielle says. (She's lying, and they both know it.) "All I'm trying to say here is that your roommate's a cunt. A twiggy,  _body-shaming_  cunt." (The way she emphasizes this screams,  _look how much I've been paying attention at your "social issues" club thing's meetings_ . It almost makes Sam want to let alone the fact that Gabrielle's doing the same thing to Ruby, just… behind Ruby's back and over the fact that she's short and skinny, not tall and solidly built, like Sam.)    
  
"Babe," Gabrielle sighs, wearing an uncharacteristically pale, sober expression. "Sam,  _really_ . I know you want to think I'm, like, super-deep and shit just because Cousin Cassy told you all about that shit with my parents and my sisters, but seriously? I swear to God: I'm not. I am shallow like a puddle, Sammy. I'm shallow like that little bit of Coke you can never get out of the bottom of the can. I like pretty people. I love fucking  _pretty people_  and I love dating pretty women. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think you were sexy, so… if you want to keep depriving yourself for some other reason, okay, cool, I won't stop you…"    
  
She trails off and pauses, looks down at her tray and lets her chocolatey hair drape in front of her face — untamed, despite barely going past her chin, and just begging to be pulled. When she opens her mouth to speak again, though, Sam finds her hand grabbed under the table, finds Gabrielle's fingers worming between her own and gently squeezing at her.    
  
"Just don't be doing this for me, Sammy. I love — I mean…" Gabrielle bites into her lower lip, and a tomato-colored blush rushes onto her cheeks. When she continues, she's purposefully glancing at the ceiling, at Bela over at another table, at everything and everyone but Sam: "I just mean… I'm pretty fond of you, y'know. And not  _just_  because you're sexy, but… b'cause you're  _you_ . …You giant, Han Solo-loving, ComicCon ticket-buying, drunk Mario Kart-playing,  _Harry Potter_  fanfic-writing  **dork**."   
  
"…So if you're just subjecting yourself to rabbit food for me, then stop being an idiot and share the wealth over here because this seriously looked like a lot less when I was getting it off the buffet, okay?"    
  
Sam snickers and squeezes Gabrielle's hand, then lets it go. With one finger and a delicate touch, she nudges Gabrielle up into a gentle kiss. Sam's salad spends the rest of lunch ignored.


End file.
